


Torture Me This

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe Sterek, Boys Kissing, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Rutting, Slow Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is a psychiatrist working in a nearby prison. He may or may not be in love with the Corrections Officer with whom he often finds himself on shift. The C.O. in question, Derek Hale, is definitely in love with Stiles. Derek can't think of anything (or anyone) else.Both men have secrets, however, that hopefully won't become an obstacle to their relationship.





	Torture Me This

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU take. Hope you like it!

Dr. Stiles Stilinski twirled his pen between two calloused fingers, biting into his pink lower lip. It was one of his nervous tics. His nose twisted up in annoyance to the voice he was hearing.

The morning's sunlight had sliced the small room in half, the blinds creating stripes on the dirty green wall beside him. He could discern that Chuck was becoming increasingly restless. Secretly he wished this patient had been assigned to his colleague.  
Being a prison psychiatrist was far from an easy job. The Salt Penitentiary near Beacon Hills was continuously under-funded and understaffed. The infirmary and social-work staff were overburdened with about 30 inmates to see on any given day. Plus emergencies. His genuine concern for these men went beyond all that, but even Stiles had off moments. Like today. 

Chucky stirred in his chair and ran nervous fingers through his curly, unmanageable hair. 

"I saw him again last night, Doc." 

The doctor sighed. How many times has he heard this story?  "Who did you see, Chucky?" 

The frazzled man looked around suspiciously as if expecting someone to appear and then leaned in, whispering. "Freddy." 

"Who is Freddy, Chucky?"  Stiles knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it. 

"You know..." the patient stammered. "The guy from the movies… with the burned face."

Stiles smirked.

"Chucky, that is just a movie. Freddy Krueger is made up. He doesn't exist."

Why did the prison allow these films to be shown? The previous week it had been Michael Myers. Half his patients thought the mad man had been roaming the halls, and some refused to leave their cells out of fear. It's a good thing Chucky hadn't seen “Chucky” yet.  Dr. Stilinski spent the rest of the session trying to reassure his patient that no one would kill him in his sleep and that all he needed was rest. He prescribed him a sedative, lest his poor cellmate be the one to truly suffocate him from passive sensory overload.  
When it was time, Stiles slowly stood and knocked on the door, beckoning for the guard to come in and collect Chuck. 

Stiles’ heart always skipped a beat when C.O. Hale entered. Derek was new, had been transferred in from upstate just a few months earlier. It was only a few weeks he got to work with him on the infirmary shift. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Couldn't have been more of a cliché if he tried. Unfortunately Derek was just Stiles’ type and he suspected the C.O. knew it. 

"Morning Doc." He inched his way to be standing right next to him.  Derek examined the doctor with a side-glance. "Looking gorgeous as always."   
A row of perfect white teeth shone Stiles’ way.   
Ugh.. that smile. Stiles burned bright red.  
  
"Hi Derek. Please take Chuck back to C Block."  
Pale green eyes burned into him through dark, thick lashes.  
"Why so serious, Doc? Did I do something?" He made a pouty face. The short beard he was sporting of late suited Derek so much. Stiles wondered if it was soft, that if they ever kissed and -  
“Stiley?”  
The doctor turned his head slightly. He secretly loved that he had a nickname.  
"No....you didn't do anything, Der. I apologize. It's been a long morning and it's only 10. Sometimes I lose my manners on the way to work.”  
Breathe, Stiles. Breathe.  
“So, Derek, do anything fun last night?" It was a poor save. He tried to disguise the fact he was trembling. Stiles grabbed a folder as a prop. 

"I went to the bar for a drink with the other C.O.s and then watched a movie at home. Not that much to do in this town, especially when you are alone." He let that last part hang in the air as he strolled over to Chuck and took him by the arm. He made sure to stick his butt out.  
"Come on, Chucky. Let's get you back to your cell." The sedative Stiles had given Chucky had taken effect and he allowed himself to be led away. 

Derek stopped directly in front of the doctor, his breathing short. He wondered if Stiles’ parents had known how beautiful he would become. Derek was a sucker for big, hazelnut eyes. And those dimples when the doc grinned. Fuck.  
"Who should I bring next, Doc? Aren't you lucky, we are working the same shift today?"  
And there were those pearly whites and that mischievious look again, landing the final blow to the young doctor’s emotions.  
A slight breeze from the open window carried his cologne to Stiles. It was musky. He cleared his throat out of embarrassment. 

"Um...let's see. Watowski, please. Cell 4 Tier 2 Block D."

"Alright then. Be right back." Derek winked as he stepped out. Stiles couldn't help but gaze at the perfect buttocks exiting the office, hugged by uniform pants. He must've had them tailored because they fit perfectly. Stiles pretended to move stuff around on the desk, but his mind was elsewhere. He was definitely distracted with thoughts of the officer.

The afternoon passed with giving out meds and listening to the usual delusions that mental patients in prisons express. The light in the doctor’s day was Derek. He accompanied the inmates but made it a point to linger and crack a joke. Stiles really liked how at ease he made him feel since he often suffered from anxiety attacks.  
Derek, in his own right, didn't want his shift to end. It would mean having to go home and not see Stiles for another day. Derek felt butterflies flutter when he came near the psychiatrist. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. Not since Isaac. 

The officer admitted to himself a week ago that he was in love. He adored everything about Stiles. His soft, dark hair, those doe eyes, behind which he saw so much pain and yet an enormous passion for life. The doctor had a sweet smile, and a wonderful sense of humor. He was extremely intelligent but grounded. They could talk about anything. Most importantly, he saw Derek for who he was and accepted him.   
When shift ended, Stiles was packing up his bag and Derek popped in one last time. 

"Hey Der-..I'm done for the day. No need to bring anyone else."

Der. God he loved hearing him say his name. Short or long version. Maybe one day he’d hear it in a moan coming from–

“Derek? Yoo hoo!” Stiles was waving his hand.   
The officer shook himself back to attention. "Stiles, I was wondering what you were doing tonight. Um...would you like to go out?"

There. He said it. It was out there now and there was no going back.

Stiles was beaming, hands on his narrow hips. "Officer Hale...are you asking me on a date?"  
"I guess I am." The raven-haired man smiled like the Cheshire cat. 

"I’d love to, Derek."  
Hale’s heart was about to explode. "Awesome. Dinner? My place? I'm a great cook."  
"I'd love that. Text me your address." Stiles tried hard not to throw up from excitement.   
"Will do. As soon as I change. See you tonight then, 8 ok?"  
"8 is great." 

Awesome. Stiles was about to have a heart attack.  
Derek leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. Stiles’ cheeks turned a shade of mauve immediately after and the young officer walked out of the office, heart thumping in his chest.  
When Derek was gone, he put his fingers to where those plump lips had just been.

-

It was 7:59pm and Stiles was already on the porch. He was nothing if not punctual.  
The house was a small ranch, painted a nice blue and white. The lawn was manicured and Derek even had potted plants on the porch. This was not what Stiles was expecting, especially for a single man. That he lived alone and spent most of his time at the prison he was aware, but it was admirable he dedicated a lot of time to his home.   
  
At precisely 8pm he rang the bell. When the door opened, Derek almost forgot to breathe. Stiles was stunning. He was wearing a blue shirt with trousers that seemed painted on. Jesus, he was gorgeous. His host swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, forgetting in embarrassment he had yet to say hello.  
Stiles was equally impressed. Light grey jeans accentuated the officer’s muscular legs, and the off-white sweater he wore on top just couldn’t have shown off his defined biceps more.  
  
“Stiles. Welcome. Come in."  
Stiles nodded and stepped over the threshold. As soon as he did, he was taken aback.  
"Derek, your home is so beautiful." It was.  
He had decorated it himself. Though the exterior style did not reflect the interior, everything was well thought out. Stiles had seen nothing like it in this town, and in his off time he moonlit as a family doctor, visiting many homes. 

"This is just stunning. You did this?"

Derek nodded. He was so pleased he liked it. "Yeah, I came into some money...and then I got the transfer. I decided I didn't want to live in 'Rivertown Chic' like all the rest. I did it all up. The basement still isn't finished. I work on it when I can. “  
His home honestly looked like something out of Architectural Digest. It was a mix of wood and metals. Soft tones. The lighting was studied and accentuated all the right angles. 

"Well, I love it. This is amazing." Stiles was grinning.

"Please, come with me."  
He followed him into the ultra-modern kitchen and Stiles placed the bag he had brought with him on a side counter.

Stiles pointed. "The contents of the red bag are for you." He could feel himself blush as Derek’s eyes lit up. 

"Oh let's see." He grabbed it and pulled open the ribbons. Inside there was a bottle of expensive red wine. A black box. And lastly, a small trinket of an elephant. 

"You shouldn't have. Thank you." He leaned in for another peck. Both were suddenly flushed.  
"May I open the box?"    
Stiles nodded in agreement.  
"Let me guess...underwear?" Derek quipped.

Stiles burst into laughter. "Just open it, silly."  
When he lifted the lid, Derek brought his hands to his mouth in shock. The box contained an antique mantel clock. Stiles knew of his love for history and hoped it wouldn't clash too much with the modern/industrial interior. "I hope you like it - perhaps it can find a place here." 

"This is so thoughtful, thank you. It's stunning." (Just like you, he thought). "I will put it on the steel shelf since it has wooden accents." 

Stiles was elated. Derek seemed to like it.  
The doctor explained further. "The elephant is a typical housewarming gift in the East. It brings good luck to the home." 

The host cocked his head to the side. "Well I think it's already working." 

Stiles figured out he would spend the whole night blushing. 

"Thank you so much, Stiles. Now...let's try this wine, what do you say?"  
They sat down some time later, relaxed and truly enjoying each other's company. The meal Derek prepared was exquisite. Stiles had no idea he was such an amazing cook.  
"You surprise me, Derek," taking a sip from his glass. 

"How's that?" He asked as he poured the last of the bottle. 

"Well, you seem like the beer and tv dinner type back at the prison. And here you are...interior decorator, chef, wine connoisseur. Home Derek doesn't fit with Work Derek."

Hale threw his head back in laughter. It was very sexy. 

"Well I'll take that as a compliment. I have always lived for beauty in all its forms." His gaze stopped on Stiles for a moment. "I don't intend on working in that place forever. I have a degree in philosophy and civil engineering. Contrasts in that, too, I guess. Life got ....complicated. This job was easiest for me in this moment. But I’m taking steps to get out. I’ve been in contact with the county development. I might be able to get a job there at the next election. Just 18 more months of Salt if all goes well. It's kind of like I, too, am working off some sentence."

The shock on Stiles’ face was noticeable. "I knew you were smart, but Derek I’m impressed. Philosophy? You're a civil engineer?! Look, I know people in this town if there's anything I can do at a city level. Just let me know. My father is the sheriff and my step-mother used to work at the hospital, but is now on the Health Board."

"Thanks, I really appreciate that. But Salt isn't all that bad. The other guys are ok. And there's this beautiful doctor who works there, you might know him." Derek’s emerald eyes sparkled. The wine was kicking in for both of them.  
Stiles chuckled. And blushed. Again. He'd lost count.

"How about we open another bottle and I'll get dessert out of the oven?"

Some pleasant conversation later, chocolate scrapes on a plate were all that remained of the dessert. The second bottle of wine was almost empty. Neither of them were drunk, but the atmosphere was happy and friendly. They sat on the couch, Derek with his back to the armrest, Stiles in the center with his feet curled up under him, facing his host.  
The officer was saying something but Stiles couldn't help staring at his mouth. He had full, sexy lips. He desperately wanted to discover what Derek tasted like. Though he didn't know it, Derek’s thoughts were very similar.

The evening had gone wonderfully. The conversation had been light though revealing. They learned a lot about one another. Derek wished it didn't have to end. He was having an amazing time. 

"Hey Stiles...you're a doctor." 

"Last I checked," he laughed. 

"Why Salt? I mean it's not the best place for a physician to work. Hell, for anyone."

"Personal reasons." Stiles coughed.  "And believe it or not, I like helping those poor guys. My patients may have done something wrong, but in many cases if only they had been on their meds...well they probably wouldn't be in there."

Derek’s brow furrowed. "And the personal reasons? If I can ask?" Stiles shifted and looked askance.

"Nobody knows but the warden...and now you. Please don't say anything. It would be dangerous if you did. Um...My step-brother is an inmate. I wanted to keep an eye on him so I got the job there. He's a good guy, just lost his way. He's doing a dime for drugs and fraud."

Derek leaned in and touched his knee. "Shit. I'm sorry. But there are no inmates I know of with your last name." 

"No. He’s from my Dad re-marrying Melissa. My brother kept his. Scott McCall, Inmate K696788."

Derek’s face showed recognition. Scott seemed like a nice guy. Trying to make it in gen pop with the big boys. Mop of wavy dark hair and an attitude that didn’t suit him. Stiles must have known he was a gopher for the Aryan brotherhood.  
He would not mention it now for sure. The doctor had already changed demeanor. Suddenly Derek was sorry he had brought it up. 

"Hey...we aren't responsible for our family's deeds. I apologize if I upset you. You’re a good brother to look after him."

"He and I really don't speak now. We used to be really close. He has no clue I pay the Aryan Brotherhood protection money. It's the only way he'll survive in there. If the warden ever found out, I'd get fired. One of the sergeants comes to me for migraines. He's looking out for Scott. He's pretty much untouchable. It sickens me to fund those assholes. But I know how things work in there. I've stitched up enough anal tears and treated shankings, called a few deaths. I couldn't bear to see Scott end up that way."

Derek was without words. This brilliant man was sacrificing himself for a brother who probably didn't even know what steps he had taken for him. He made a mental note that tomorrow he was going to see Scott. He would never reveal a thing but he would be sure to put the point across that he better keep his ass in line. Or else.

"I think you’re incredible, Stiles." He was taken by an overwhelming urge to kiss him. He took his hand from Stiles’ knee. Inching forward, he drew him closer.  
Stiles didn't stiffen, but gave in to the movement and came within a hair’s breadth of Derek’s mouth. 

Derek placed his warm hands on his face, and Stiles noticed they were scented like amber. He hovered just half an inch away, it almost seemed as if time stopped. Derek couldn't believe he was about to kiss Stiles and the doctor held his breath in anticipation, hazelnut eyes fixated on Derek’s lips.  
They had been dancing around this for weeks. 

Derek’s gorgeous sea foam eyes shifted from Stiles’ gaze to his mouth, up and down. Derek half-smiled nervously. It was only a matter of seconds, Stiles was sure, but it felt like a delicious infinity. Finally it happened.

Derek angled in, gently brushing his supple lips with Stiles’. A second touch and their lips parted. Derek’s tongue was meek, only playing at first. Shortly after Stiles pressed himself into him, chest against chest, and with deeply drawn breaths they melted into one another. Stiles fell back onto the couch, his body flat against his lover’s. Derek’s arms held him in place. Nothing felt more right in that moment.  
Derek broke the kiss, looking down into Stiles’ small face. He traced a line across his jaw with his finger.  
"I'm just making sure this is real and not a dream." 

Stiles smiled. "It's real." He whispered. "I'm here. We're finally here. Thanks for asking me out. Had you have waited any longer I would have asked you." 

Derek chuckled. "I’m so glad I did. I know Finkle had an eye on you but I didn't think bald and racist was your type. So...I wasn't really worried."  
Now it was Stiles’ turn to laugh.  
"Fickle Finkle? Really? No. Bald, why not?" He raked his fingers through Derek’s black mane. "Racist..no thanks." He smirked.  
"How about we stop talking about Finkle and you kiss me again?"

Derek grinned in that way he adored and made Stiles’ knees quake. The doctor gently brought his lips back. The officer nipped on Stiles’ lower lip. He didn't want to rush. There's so much he wanted to do, he was so intoxicating. But he was a gentleman. Stiles needed to lead. And this was too important to fuck up.

Stiles brought his arm to Derek’s back while the other slowly made its way down to his ass. Derek pulled away and raised an eyebrow. "Doc...I hope this is a professional touch."  
The doctor replied chuckling "Yes. In my professional opinion you have a perfect buttock."  
None of this was helping the erection pulsating in Derek's pants. Stiles felt it against him, and it was impressive.   
Derek was feeling hardness against his groin, too. “I think there’s something in your pocket, doctor.”  
Stiles shook his head. “No, I’m just happy to see you.”

Stiles lifted his head, hands fisting into Derek's hair. His tongue licked across Derek’s upper lip, slowly, then parted them. Stiles explored his mouth, kissing him deeper, his perfect ass and strong thighs under his touch, eager hands which had found their way back to his backside once more.

Both men were keeping their cool though it was becoming increasingly difficult. Derek’s crotch was on fire. It was all he could do to not take him right there on the sofa. Stiles was in a similar predicament with a tightness building in his belly.  
With all the restraint Derek could muster, he only touched Stiles’ cheeks and neck. Their tongues danced and Stiles’ barely audible groans were sending him over the edge. Derek allowed himself to trace a line down his throat with kisses. Stiles was dangerously close to reaching for Derek’s cock.  
Instead, he pulled onto him tighter. A soft moan escaped Derek’s ruddy lips as Stiles lightly lifted his hips and ground against him.

Derek knew Stiles wanted him as much as he did, but he didn't want it to be tonight. Too easy. He enjoyed the torture. 

"Stiles.." he breathed.."um....I don't want to kill the mood here or anything. But things are sort of getting...critical."

The doctor opened his eyes...they looked so desiring. Derek pointed down to his crotch and smiled.  
Stiles chuckled and licked his lips. "Yes. I can feel the magnitude of the... critical mass." Derek adored his sense of humor.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “I’m having a similar issue.”  
Derek rutted in and smirked. “Yeah, I can tell.”  
"Now, I may kick myself tomorrow morning...” Derek shifted his body back to a sitting position, “but I think we need to slow down. I don't want to jump into something too soon. I owe you more than that. Believe me, I want nothing more than to jump into bed with you." He kissed him on the lips once more. "But let's take this slow. A few more dates won't kill us."   
"Who are you Derek Hale?" Stiles wondered.  
"A keeper.” Derek replied with a wink.  

So, they sat up on the sofa, and in a moment of intoxicated boldness, Stiles leaned over for one last kiss, allowing it to linger. He gently grazed the bulge in the other’s pants.  
"I guess he and I will make our acquaintances some other time."  
Derek almost came at the mere touch there...his dick was so hard it was painful. He hated himself just a bit for being so correct, but his mother had taught him better, and Stiles was too special. 

"I would never have guessed that the cold, clinical Dr. would be so naughty. Come on," he patted his knee, "Let me get you home. I'll drive you to work with your car tomorrow, pick you up at 7."

"No...It's fine. I can sleep here on the couch. Help you with the dishes tomorrow. We can go in together," Stiles replied sleepily. 

"That would be ill-advised. How can I let you sleep out here knowing I have a very large and comfortable bed in there?" Again, that grin. "Compromise. I drive you home and I Uber back. It's only 10 minutes."

"Done."

They stood, erections waning after the discussion about transport. It was still quite visible but Stiles averted his eyes, instead putting on his shoes and gathering his things. They stepped out onto the driveway and Derek took his keys.  
"Know how to drive stick?" Stiles asked.

The officer guffawed. "What an insult. Of course. I've had my share of experience with the _stick._ "   
"I'm sure you have," Stiles whispered to himself.   
The men climbed into Stiles’ jeep and took off shortly after. Chatting on the way to his house, occasionally they’d hold hands. Stiles would sneak glances there, trying to remember what their fingers looked like intertwined.  
When they got to Stiles’ place, he parked and plopped the keys into Stiles’ palm.  
"Here you are my Lord," Derek angled in for one last smooch.  
"Sure you don't want to stay over?" Stiles breathed back.

"You know I do, but I won't. See you tomorrow, beautiful." 

Stiles was spinning. After a goodbye kiss and embrace, Derek walked off towards the direction of his ride.  
"Saturday I'll be over to cut the grass." He looked back over his shoulder, pointing at the ground. Stiles scrutinized the front lawn and laughed. 

"Good night, Stiles."

"Good night, Derek."

"Text me when you get home." 

-

That night Derek lay in bed, naked. He went over the evening again in his mind. He couldn't get past how wonderful Stiles was, how lucky he felt to have met him. This guy was the whole package. Brains and beauty. Self-sacrificing and generous. And that body. He could still taste him in his mouth, the kisses sweet and cool like mint ice cream.  
The feeling of his chest heaving against Derek's, heaving _for him,_ was haunting the man.  
His cock became engorged again at the thought. He couldn't wait to be inside him. Derek wasn’t sure, but he assumed Stiles was a bottom. The way he had led things on the couch lent to that. Anyway, it didn’t matter. Stiles was so special Derek would even be willing to switch.  
Yes, Derek thought, it would be soon. He had done the right thing to wait. But what was happening between his legs in this moment, well, couldn't. One hand moved to stroke his thick cock from base to tip. Languidly tugging, he closed his eyes and replayed the scene on the couch. The memory was so fresh and vivid he could swear Stiles was right there with him, the heat between his legs rubbing against his own dick. Shit.  Those soft lips and that tongue.  
He grabbed onto his shaft harder and pumped faster. Small guttural noises escaped him. Next he played into his fantasy. He was seeing Stiles down there, his mouth on his cock, that fabulous tongue licking him up and down, sucking lightly on his balls. Derek was almost there. Just a few more tugs.  
He imagined Stiles’ moist mouth open, tip of his muscle resting on his lips ready to receive his cum, brown eyes begging for it.  
Several hard, short strokes near the glans and he exploded with multiple spurts all over his tummy. In his mind, it had all dirtied Stiles.  
He was alone and let out a roar. These next days would be torture indeed.  
As he cleaned himself up some moments later, his thoughts were only for Stiles. He couldn't wait to see the doctor tomorrow. Just a few hours to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Gave it more of a slow burn this time around. Kudos and comments are what I thrive on so please be generous! Love u all.  
> I honestly don't know if I will ever get around to writing any more of this. If someone would like to take over let me know.


End file.
